


Too Much Like You

by ReaderJane



Category: Stephanie Plum - Evanovich
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-29
Updated: 2005-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderJane/pseuds/ReaderJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ranger teaches Stephanie to pick locks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Much Like You

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: it's all Janet's

I came down the stairs two at a time, following the enticing scent of coffee that wafted up from the kitchen. It was almost noon. I had slept in after helping Ranger catch a skip the night before. I had a good excuse for sleeping in because the bathroom in my parents' house is booked until mid-morning. Now after a shower I was dressed and ready to face the day.

My mother had her keys in her hand and her bookbag over her shoulder. "Stephanie, I have to leave for my class," she said. Mom was enrolled in a nursing program at the community college. "There's chicken salad in the refrigerator and some rolls from the bakery. Your father will be out with the taxi all day." Probably my dad was playing cards with the guys, but we all pretended he was driving his taxi. "I'm dropping your grandmother off at the beauty parlor. I'll pick her up on my way home."

"Helen, are you ready yet?" Grandma Mazur walked in from the living room. She was wearing a tangerine warmup suit and white sneakers. "I ain't got all day. I've got to tell Melvina about the viewing at Stiva's tonight. Marian Davis choked on a pork chop. I hope the casket is open. I want to see if Stiva got Marian's tongue back in her mouth." Eew. I love my Grandma, but sometimes her imagination is a little too vivid.

The screen door slammed. My sister Valerie came in looking harried. She was carrying baby Lisa and followed by her two older daughters. Lisa was crying, a thin fretful wail that sounded as exhausted as Valerie looked.

"Mom, can you watch Angie and Mary Alice for a few hours," Valerie pleaded. "I think Lisa has another ear infection. The doctor's office said they'd see her, but they have to fit her in and it might take awhile. Last time I took the girls with me Mary Alice galloped into the fish tank and almost knocked it over." Valerie rubbed the baby's back, but it did nothing to stop the crying.

"I'm already running late for my class," my mom answered. "And your grandmother has an appointment at the beauty parlor. Stephanie can watch the girls."

Everyone's eyes turned to me. "Um," I said. "I'm not very good at baby-sitting," I tried to protest.

"It will be good experience for you," my mother insisted. "For when you have your own children." I didn't remind her that wouldn't be happening any time soon, since I'd just broken up with Joe Morelli. Again.

"Please, Stephanie," Valerie looked desperate. "You don't have to do anything, just be here. I'll be back before supper." She hunted for her keys, switching Lisa to the other arm so she could check her other pocket. "Oh, they haven't had lunch yet, so if you could feed them something," she found the keys and hurried toward the door.

"Give them some chicken salad," my mom instructed. "And there are two cupcakes left for the girls." She followed Valerie out the door.

Grandma Mazur hefted her purse. I hated to think what kind of arsenal she might be carrying for a trip to the beauty parlor. "I'm going to have Clara put some color in my hair. Do you think strawberry blonde would be good for the viewing?" she asked. "Or maybe auburn with highlights."

"Strawberry blonde sounds good," I told her. Grandma was bright enough already. I thought highlights might create too much glare for the other seniors at Stiva's funeral parlor.

After Grandma left, Angie, Mary Alice and I looked at each other.

"Want to watch some wrestling?" I suggested. "We could eat our chicken salad in front of the television."

Angie looked disapproving. "Grammy never lets us eat lunch in the living room," she said.

"Grammy's not here," answered Mary Alice. She neighed and galloped around the dining room table.

"You two go turn on the television. I'll get the food," I said. I went to the refrigerator and started pulling out containers. Chicken salad, margarine for the rolls, some little carrots. All disgustingly healthy. Given a choice, I'd start my day with coffee and a cupcake. But my mother had been right. There were only two cupcakes left. I had the feeling if I ate one of them World War III would break out when my nieces had to split the other.

My cell phone rang. I balanced the carrots on top of the salad so I could grab the phone from my pocket.

"Yo." It was Ranger.

"Yo yourself," I answered.

"Got another job for you tonight. Want to get some lunch and I'll tell you the details?"

"I can't. I have to babysit."

I could hear the grin in his voice. "Babysit? You?"

I rolled my eyes. "I can babysit. Besides, it's just my two older nieces." I pulled plates from the cupboard and forks from a drawer. "Valerie had to take the baby to the doctor, and my mom has class. Dad's out for the day. So I'm taking care of Angie and Mary Alice."

"That the one who thinks she's a horse?"

"That's the one," I answered.

"Your granny there?"

"No, she'll be at the beauty parlor all afternoon."

He paused, and I swear I could hear him pondering. "I can handle a horse. Be there in ten." He hung up.

I put some chicken salad, a roll and some carrots on two plates. Added forks and carried them out to the living room. The girls dug in, arguing over who had custody of the remote. By the time I had poured myself some coffee Ranger was at the door. He was carrying a gym bag that clanked.

"What's in the bag?" I asked.

"Trade secret," he said.

"I'm in the trade," I protested. He grinned. Fine, I thought. Be cryptic. "Want some chicken salad?" I asked. He raised an eyebrow.

"My mother made it," I admitted.

"Okay," he accepted. I fixed two more plates wishing I had something to go with the healthy stuff. It needed chips or fries. Or chocolate.

We sat down at the dining room table. From the living room came the clink of forks accompanied by cartoon noises.

"So what's this job tonight?"

"Client's wife died last month. He suspects malpractice on her doctor's part. He's getting ready to sue, but he's worried the doctor will destroy some of the evidence if he files. Wants me to retrieve his wife's chart from the doctor's office."

"So why don't you retrieve it?" I asked.

"The office is in a women's health center, and they're a little… paranoid about their patients' privacy. All the staff, from the doctors to the janitors, are female. I can't walk into the building openly. I could go in at night, but I don't want to disable the security cameras. My client wants copies of his wife's chart so if the paperwork that gets subpoena'd is altered, he'll know. He doesn't want to tip the lawyers off. You can go in as cleaning staff, make copies of the paperwork, and carry it out."

"But to do that," Ranger continued, "you'll need to pick a lock." He set his plate aside. Reaching into the bag at his feet, he pulled out a doorknob attached to what looked like a piece of a door. It was followed by a flat leather case.

"You're going to teach me to pick locks?" I could hardly believe it. For years the locks on my apartment had been useless. It seemed like everyone in Trenton could pick my lock except me.

"Told you when things were slow we'd have an advanced course in B&amp;E." I scooted my chair closer so I could see the doorknob better.

"This is a torque wrench, and this is a pick," he said, pulling something that looked like a dentist's probe out of the leather case. He fished in his pocket for a key. "When you put the key in the lock the teeth push the pins out of the way. Then the plug can rotate freely." He used the key to open the lock, then locked it again. "Without a key, the pins drop down and keep the plug from turning."

Ranger picked up the dentist probe. "You use the pick to push a pin out of the way. But when you release the pressure the pin will drop back down. So you have to put some torque on the lock to keep the first pin set while you find the other pins and set them too."

"This sounds complicated," I said. "You always do it so fast."

"Practice," Ranger explained. "There are a lot of ways to pick a lock, but we'll start with this one. Take the pick and see if you can feel the pins. They're held in place with springs, so they'll have some give to them." He grasped the wooden frame to hold it steady for me.

I took the pick and started fishing inside the keyhole. It reminded me of being at the dentist getting plaque scraped off my teeth. Yuck.

Ranger asked casually, "You and Morelli split up again?" I concentrated on the pins, delaying while I searched for an answer. After our one night together Ranger had told me to repair my relationship with Morelli but said he'd be back in my bed if it was empty too long. I didn't think one night was very long. As always, Ranger's face was unreadable.

"Joe wants me to get a different job," I replied. I could feel the little pins inside the lock pushing in and springing back as I ran the pick over them.

"Bond enforcement's a dangerous business," Ranger said.

"You never tell me it's too dangerous for me."

"It's up to you to decide what's too dangerous for you," he answered. "Can you tell how many pins there are?"

"Feels like seven," I said.

"Good. Now try using the torque wrench to turn the plug. Turn it clockwise, like you're opening it with a key. The pins in back will probably set first." This was way trickier than it looked.

While I was twisting and poking, Mary Alice wandered in from the living room. "What are you doing?" she said.

"Dentistry," I answered.

"That's a lock pick," Mary Alice said. "I saw it on television. Can I try?"

"Horses can't pick locks," I said. Their hooves can't hold the pick."

Mary Alice thought for a moment. "I could hold it in my teeth," she suggested.

Ranger pulled a padlock from his bag and got a different-shaped pick from the leather case. "Keep working on that one," he told me. I put the doorknob and its frame between my knees to hold it still. Ranger set Mary Alice in front of him so he could see over her shoulder.

"I'm not sure we should be teaching her this," I said. There would be hell to pay if Valerie found out. Not to mention my mother. Grandma would want to learn to pick locks too.

"You got that open yet?" Ranger asked. I grimaced and kept trying. While I scraped and twisted, Ranger showed Mary Alice how to hold her pick. With half my mind I listened to him coaching her. With the other half I tried to picture the inside of my lock. I was getting a headache trying to visualize tiny metal parts that I couldn't see.

I glanced up. Angie was standing just outside the dining room, half-hidden by the doorframe. She was watching Ranger and Mary Alice. Angie had the oddest expression on her face. For a minute I couldn't think who it reminded me of. Then it clicked. Angie looked just like Valerie. Left out, jealous, too unsure of herself to ask to be included. With a little self-righteous thrown in. I felt something give in my hand. I looked down. My doorknob was unlocked. How did that happen?

"I did it!" Mary Alice said. She let out a loud whinny. Her padlock was open and she had a big grin on her face. "Can I have my cupcake now?" she asked.

"I'll get it for you," I said. I put my doorknob on the table and walked into the kitchen. The cupcakes were on top of the refrigerator. I handed both to Mary Alice. "Give Angie her cupcake, okay?" I said. Mary Alice took a cupcake in each hand and galloped out of the kitchen.

Dessert. I wanted some. Lockpicking was hard work, and I needed something to sustain me. Of course! I pulled a spoon out of the drawer, then opened the freezer. I'd hidden a pint of mocha-fudge ice cream behind the rump roast. If Grandma hadn't discovered it yet, it should still be there. I shifted frozen food around, hunting for my prize. "Mocha fudge, where are you?" I muttered to myself. My hand closed on a familiar round carton.

A large hand settled on the freezer on either side of me. I felt Ranger leaning against my back. His lips tickled my ear.

"You don't need ice cream," he whispered. Between the cold air coming from the freezer and the heat from his body behind me I was surprised a whirlwind wasn't forming. With me right in the eye of the storm.

No, I didn't need ice cream, I thought, looking at the dark muscled forearm beside my face. But mocha was definitely what I wanted.

Ranger's lips traveled from my ear to the back of my neck. "I like the new haircut, Babe," he said against my skin. I was suddenly grateful for the skip who had chopped a chunk of my hair off, forcing me to get it trimmed so short. Maybe I should send Delores a thank-you note.

Distantly I heard voices raised in the living room. The girls were arguing about something. Ranger nibbled my neck. I leaned back against him. My hand was getting cold holding the ice cream, but I was distracted by his hands sliding around my waist.

"Aunt Stephanie, Mary Alice ate my cupcake and it's not fai –" Angie came pounding into the kitchen and stopped short. "– Oh."

Angie and I locked eyes. She looked half embarrassed, half curious. I could feel my face turning red.

I finished pulling the ice cream carton out of the freezer and grabbed the spoon. I held them both out to Angie. She hesitated for a moment, as if she was afraid they would bite her. Then she darted forward, snatched them from my hand and ran out of the kitchen.

I turned in Ranger's arms. He lowered his head to kiss me. I slid my hands around his neck, thinking, now this is dessert. The screen door slammed.

"What's going on?" Grandma Mazur called. Ranger and I froze.

"Thought you said she was gone for the afternoon," Ranger said softly.

"She was supposed to be," I answered.

"What's all this stuff on the table?" Grandma said. "Is that good-looking bounty hunter here? That looks like his car out front."

I did a quick check of my clothes to make sure nothing was mussed and walked out of the kitchen. "Grandma," I greeted her. "I thought you were going to be at the beauty parlor all afternoon."

"I had to take a raincheck," Grandma explained. "Louise Greeber had a real hair emergency. The pilot light in her oven blew out. When she tried to re-light it, ka-boom! Louise got knocked on her keister. Her eyebrows and the whole front of her hair was singed off. She's lucky she didn't break a hip. I don't know what Clara thinks she can do for her. Maybe Louise will have to wear a wig until her hair grows back."

"How did you get home?" I asked.

"Melvina gave me a ride. I'm starved. You got any of that mocha fudge ice cream left?" Her eyes traveled to the kitchen doorway behind me. "I thought that was your car outside," Grandma said to Ranger.

Mary Alice galloped into the room. "Great-grammy, I know how to pick a lock! Want to see?"

"I could use a lock-picking lesson," Grandma eyed Ranger speculatively. I'm pretty sure I saw his jaw clench.

"Ranger has to leave, Grandma. He just got a call about a skip," I improvised. I scooped all the hardware back into his gym bag. "I gave Angie the ice cream. Maybe she hasn't finished it yet." Grandma looked disappointed, but she went to find Angie.

I walked Ranger to the door. "Thanks for covering," he told me quietly.

"You're welcome." I smiled. Grandma was the only thing I knew of that scared Ranger. I couldn't blame him.

I could hear Mary Alice explaining all about her padlock to Grandma Mazur. "I feel like we've launched her on a life of crime," I said.

Ranger grinned. "Don't think we could have held her back, Babe."

I tried to raise one eyebrow, but had to settle for giving him a questioning look.

"She's too much like you." He dropped a quick kiss on my lips. "Pick you up at nine," he said. He walked out the door, put the gym bag in his car and pulled out into the street.

"Nine o'clock," I repeated to myself. It seemed like a long time away.


End file.
